Intoxicated
by Skysha-Tranqui
Summary: Sequel to 'Flask and a Half'. Slash. Yaoi. Spander. Fifth in my series of Buffy ficlets. Post revelations at the Magic Box, how does Spike react? Will the Cupid Fairy's arrows have any further effect, and what catastrophe will they have to deal with next?


Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy, or any of its character's, and I don't claim to, so don't sue me!

Pairing: S/X

Plot: Revelations out of the way, it's back to co-habiting Spike and Xander – how will Spike now act around Xander, are they any closer to finding out who wants to kill the blonde vampire off, and what will they say now that they're incapable of lying?

Fifth ficlet in my series of ficlets, based around Psychic!Xander.

Again, please let me know what you think, and enjoy!

**Also just thought I'd set the timing – although I'm not sure on the sequence of events in the programme, so this is hodgepodge of them…Spike's been chipped, tried to live on his own, and has done the bit with Giles. **

2) Xander has his carpenter job, isn't with Anya, never was with Anya, and moved out of his Basement without ever having roomed with Spike.

3) Joyce is dead; Buffy, Willow and Tara live at the Summers' house and take care of Dawn – nothing from Glory yet, nor do they have the money problems they did in the series.

4) Angel, Drusilla and Oz left the same way they did in the series.

Umm…if you spot any other inconsistencies let me know and I'll add them to this list. 

Intoxicated

The door shut with a final sounding click.

Why it should sound so final, Xander didn't know, all he knew was that there had been an ominous lack of communication from Spike since Xander had asked about the bath comment.

That wasn't all that was bothering the vampire though – Xander could tell, from the little sideways looks Spike had been sending him ever since he'd revealed his dependence on alcohol, that the vampire was worried about him.

Going to the Magic Box earlier, with the intention to discuss who would be after Spike, the last thing he'd thought would occur was that he'd tell them his secret. Or that the vampire would manage to worm his coping device out of him. Now everyone was under the impression he was some kind of alcoholic – maybe showing them the hip flask full of Whiskey hadn't helped in that respect – and Xander didn't know how he could reassure them he wasn't.

It didn't matter that no-one had used that word, it was plain from their expressions that they'd taken the facts ( _"Alcohol – the only medium even remotely successful at blocking our abilities."…_ _pull out a rectangular silver device… "…Whiskey…" _) and come up with their own conclusion – it didn't even matter that it was physically impossible for him to become addicted to it! In their eyes he'd admitted he was dependent on the substance, and that was their definition of 'addicted'.

Eyeing the vampire's tense back, where it was presented to him as Spike leaned forwards onto the breakfast bar, Xander shook his head in defeat. For someone who usually loved embarrassing and humiliating him, the vampire didn't seem to be taking much pleasure in his two victories. Three, if you counted the shade of red he'd blushed when he'd realised what the vampire had insinuated about giving him a bath. But no, when he'd first got Xander cornered he'd then changed his mind and tried to help him talk his way out of it…kind of. And now? He'd reverted to the sullen silence he'd adopted after killing his own Valuffa.

Deciding he'd never figure the other man out, Xander moved away from the front door. He shrugged his coat off and draped it over the couch, then moved into his kitchenette to grab a beer, not bothering to look at Spike as he passed him.

Chink of metal on metal as he removed the beer cap. Sound of liquid flowing as he tilted the bottle back and took a swig.

No reflection in the small curtainless window. No breathing other than his own. No sound of movement. Just a _nudge._

Letting go of the bottle immediately, Xander ducked. The glass smashed in the sink, brown alcohol frothing around the plughole, but he was already twisting, left arm striking out and hitting Spike in the side, right hand going to the vampire's neck and holding him in place.

For a moment he remained motionless, feeling the tension in Spike's neck muscles, brain wandering enough to note that that was how you knew if someone was really muscled – when you could easily spot and feel the muscles in something like their neck…such a nibble-able neck at that…

Reigning in his more inappropriate impulses – especially given the object of them just tried to attack him – Xander tried to calm himself down, even as the adrenaline remained pumping through his system. "Would you like to explain that, Spike? Why did you just try to attack me – you know full well your chip would have gone off, so why?"

"Funny," Spike said, voice slightly strained for some reason. "I was about to ask you the same thing. Well, similar thing anyway,"

Since he showed no sign of wanting to jump him again, _Disappointed?_ Xander released his hold on Spike and moved back a bit. Letting the vampire turn and face him with blue eyes that glittered accusingly.

"Now, I can understand why you'd want to drown out the voices in your head, or whatever mate – I've seen something similar before, remember? I know Dru probably isn't the comparison you'd want to hear, but she's the only one I have of what can happen to someone with your kind of powers,"

Here Spike's voice grew hard again – odd, Xander hadn't realised it had softened.

"What I can't understand is the speed with which you've given in. The precog is obviously useful in a fight – as you've just illustrated – and yet what do you do, automatically, it seems? You drink it away, try to drown it, when it hasn't reached the point of being unbearable yet. That's not the Xander I know, and I want you to tell me _why_ you're drinking yourself into an early grave!"

Blinking hard, Spike turned and dropped onto one of the barstools. His face remained downturned, but Xander could tell he was still waiting for an answer. One which was dragged out of his mouth without his consent.

"Because I know what's waiting for me."

Glad that the dust seemed to have exited his eyes, Spike let himself look at the Whelp in puzzlement at that answer, his anger gone for the moment. Unfortunately though, the brown-haired idiot wasn't even looking at him, instead he'd moved to stare down at the mess he'd made in the sink. At least his actions had kept Xander from drinking any more of the noxious liquid, even if it was only a temporary respite. Mind you, the fact that William the bloody had been so easily overpowered by a _human_…well, it just served to emphasize that he really had turned into a bloody skirt-wearer!

Anger fully returned, Spike found he was able to spin his boy around and face the dreaded puppy-dog eyes without wavering from his course. Getting answers which weren't bloody riddles!

"What are you on about?"

"My parents, Spike! No wait, make that, _all_ my relatives – since they're all gifted with this wonderful ability! My whole family are alcoholics…or what you and the others would term 'alcoholics'. Drinking lessens our ability – it never goes completely – but it makes it bearable, as you said, for a while."

Feeling oddly distant from what he was saying, Xander wondered what was making his tongue so loose today, as he hadn't even had his normal morning pick-up – he'd been too distracted by the naked and damp vampire to sneak some alcohol into his coffee. And while this wasn't something he'd ever voluntarily admit to someone, still the words came pouring out of his mouth.

"When I was a kid, every day I saw my parents downing alcohol! My mum could 'see' when my dad cheated on her, and they argued and fought – some days they didn't even have to say anything to have a full-out argument, since they could foresee what the other would say, they just had the results of it. Oh, and family reunions were so much _fun!_ Always a full bar, and the occasional breakdown,"

"It kicked in quite early with me, I'm told – I had 'feelings' about things when I was a baby, and my first full vision when I hit double digits. For my eleventh birthday my parents bought me a pack of beer to help me cope with my 'abilities'. It wasn't long before spirits were the only alcohol strong enough to do anything for me."

One harsh breath at a time, his chest heaving as he finally regained some control over his speech…but not enough to just…shut…up.

"You don't get it, do you? The alcohol…it doesn't affect us like it does other people. The visions – they overpower it, burn away the numbness. With my other family members, if they've drunk enough already, it can keep their abilities from acting up, but with me…the visions can force through the drink."

"That's what happened that first night, at the bar." Spike's eyes were _so_ blue. _Umm…might want to stop talking now…_Even if he'd wanted to listen to the going-crazy voice, his vocal cords didn't give him the choice, going right on talking.

"And then in the cemetery…and the Magic Box today…"

"I am _NOT_ a sodding girl! Okay! I don't get what is with this sudden hero complex you've developed – I don't even care that you've been 'seeing' things, just stop treating me like some kind of _damsel in distress!_"

And that is what is termed a blow-out.

The cords of Spike's neck stood out, and his face was shifting restlessly between game face and back to human. Those blue eyes which had so entranced Xander, were suddenly glittering with an entirely uninviting look.

Momentarily stymied, Xander was nevertheless thankful that the vampire's outburst seemed to have stopped his own. Unsure how to respond to the fact that Spike had just said he basically saw Xander as a knight who rescued him, Xander rubbed a nervous hand over the back of his neck.

"And you can stop with the cuteness…_right…now!_" Breathing heavily, Spike stared at the boy who had gone from a ranting man with serious issues, to looking like a puppy who had just been kicked. All cuddly-like.

"I don't care how shaggable you are, that is no excuse for treating me like I can't fend for myself! You didn't have to push me out of the way of that arrow, or hit that bloody sneeze demon on the head – you could have just _told_ me and I'd have bloody done it!"

Deep brown eyes had an almost-limpid quality to them, but the Whelp's impossibly long eyelashes swept down before Spike could interpret the emotion in them. Opening his eyes again, Spike bit down a growl of frustration as his boy gave him an innocently confused look.

"Oh, no," He let out a strained chuckle, a small edge of bitterness lending his voice an unintended bite. "You're not going to weasel your way out of it that easily, so you can stop with the adorable batting of your eyes, and the clueless expression, you know exactly what I'm talking about."

Unfortunately for Xander, a knock at the door interrupted the obviously-on-the-edge vampire before he could explain what the hell he was babbling on about. And what was with all the 'cute', 'shaggable' and 'adorable's? _He likes you dumbass._ Nah.

Leaving Xander in the kitchenette, Spike made his way back to the front door, annoyance making him yank the cooler of blood out of the demon delivery guy's hands, and shove a wad of money at him in return – uncaring how much was there.

A thud announced the cooler's presence on the breakfast bar, and it was only as Spike began banging his way through cabinets looking for the mugs that he noticed Xander was still just stood there, seemingly shaking his head to himself. Odd. Oh, well, shrugging it off, Spike grabbed the first bloodbag from the cooler, glad he'd contacted his supplier and given them Xander's address when he'd had to stay over after being beaten up by the measly humans. Not that he was still sore about being turned into a skirt-wearer. Nooo.

Slung in the microwave, the mug showed how sturdy it was by not breaking, despite the vampire's angry strength. Beep, blip, bloop, went the buttons as he programmed in the right time, and then whir went the fan as the gadget heated up.

Head still locked in battle, as Spike tried to go over the recent events, whilst unconvincingly reassuring himself that he wasn't completely useless, his vampire hearing failed to pick up the sudden groan from Xander. It did manage to pick up the ding from the microwave as it reached the end of the timer though, and it was a greatly distracted vampire who fished the mug out and lifted it to his lips.

It was the warlike yell which first alerted him, and then the impact of a body slamming into his just as the first of the warm blood touched his lips which roused him from his stupor.

Hitting the floor with a muffled whump, Spike rolled out from underneath Xander, his mug hitting the floor and rolling away, blood spilling garishly as it did.

"…That's a pretty strong mug…"

"Poisoned…" Xander gasped for breath, obviously feeling the impact with Spike more than the vampire was. "…Blood is poisoned…"

An incredulous glance at his boy showed his thoughts on the matter, but nonetheless Spike dipped a finger in the spilled blood, bringing it close to his nose and letting his vampire senses loose.

Copper, of course, as well as the usual cacophony of scents which made up an individual's blood. The slightest trace of something acidic which proved it was blood type o neg. All perfectly normal and what Spike had been expecting to smell, and definitely not what made him jerk away from his blood-slicked finger, gagging.

No, what made him do that was the overpowering stench of garlic he could smell over the top of all the other scents.

Normally only a deterrent, it would be fatal to a vampire if ingested in large quantities…the same size quantities he could smell in the blood forming a puddle on Xander's kitchenette floor – now that he was no longer distracted, and using his full vampire senses…in fact.

Touching a cautious finger to his bottom lip, Spike winced at the small burn he could feel there. Even that little drop of blood which had touched his lip had been enough to harm him. Granted, such a small amount, ingested, would have likely only given him indigestion – but if he'd thrown back the entire mug in one like he'd planned to…Not such a positive outlook.

"Another vision, luv?"

Noting the subdued quality to Spike's voice, where before he'd been full of righteous indignation, made Xander pause for a moment before answering.

Maybe it was time to be completely honest with someone. Particularly when his abilities were so tightly linked with Spike's current survival…more information could only help the vampire, right? _Justify it all you want – you like him, and want him to like you back, cuddle-wumple, even knowing all the different strings which pull your puppet._

"Yeah, a vision. Umm, Spike? You know what I said about my whole family? With the heritage, and the drinking, and everything?" Feeling slightly punch drunk from being given a full blast of the puppy dog eyes, Spike wobbled slightly, cursing his suddenly weak knees as he silently nodded his head.

"Well, the real reason we all drink – it isn't because we have the visions, or at least, not purely because of that. It's because we have the visions, and we can never stop them from coming true."

Stopping, and shifting closer to the still vampire, who for some reason was gripping the breakfast bar with both hands, Xander expelled a deep breath of air, and put all of his honesty into what he said next.

"I've never been able to interfere with one of my visions, before the one I had in the bar. Never been able to stop them, change them, never been within distance to have any effect before. And I don't understand the why, but I am glad that I could help."

Blue eyes locked onto brown, a stunned expression blocking out the Spike's emotions, but still Xander saw the unnecessary breath the vampire took, and the movement of his adams apple as he swallowed, and butted in before the vampire could tell him to 'sod off' or 'stop talking like a nancy boy'.

"I also saw a lot more this time. I know how to stop the one behind all these attacks, but it's going to take a bit of planning and you're going to need the Scoobies help."

Carefully not thinking what he really wanted to say to that little speech – lest the unusual bug which had taken hold of his tongue in the Magic Box did so again, Spike lowered his gaze to his hands on the breakfast bar and mulled over the piece offering the Whelp was trying to give him. Completely missing the fury which filled Xander's gaze as his eyes fastened on the red burn mark on Spike's pale lower lip.

"Right, pet, you need the Big Bad to make this plan go without a hitch? As long as I get to pound into…" A quick cough covered the rest of the words, and it was with a puzzled expression on his face that Xander watched as the pink-tinged vampire corrected himself. "I mean, pound _on_ someone. Well, let's just say I'm at your service."

_Go on – ask!_ Ignoring the mad-voice which was obviously trying to get him killed – afterall if it was bad enough to make Spike _blush_, well the vampire would obviously kill him if he made a thing about it – Xander made his way over to his phone in the small, but comfy, living area, picking it up and dialing the Magic Box, knowing the others' would likely still be there, discussing him.

"Okay, I'll just tell the others what they need to do, and then we can go over your part in this."

Lightly jumping onto the couch, Spike made himself comfortable, putting his boots up on the opposite arm and folding his arms behind his head. "A trap, is it then, luv? Good, it's been a while since I've taken part in a decent one of those."

Predatory grin matching the one on the bleached menace's face, Xander ignored the tempting picture the other man made, and turned away as the phone was picked up on the other end.

"Hi, Giles, it's Xander – there's something I need you to do…"


End file.
